


memory lane

by feychella



Series: pure entropy [4]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Campaign: Graduation (The Adventure Zone), Failed Suicide Attempt, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:40:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24825463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feychella/pseuds/feychella
Summary: Fitzroy was done. He was done with Chaos, done with hurting his friends, done with everything.The memories ebb and flow, his heart pulses in his throat, life force fading - until Argonaut Keene jumps in after him.
Relationships: Argo Keene & Sir Fitzroy Maplecourt, Argo Keene/Sir Fitzroy Maplecourt
Series: pure entropy [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1848211
Comments: 20
Kudos: 65





	memory lane

**Author's Note:**

> No authors were harmed in the making of this fic (actually, that's a lie).

It had gone too far. Chaos had promised him power, everything he ever wanted. Fitzroy had taken it, like a fool, desperately grasping at anything that could make him worth something. His rages were unpredictable; he lashed out at his friends, he _hurt_ those closest to him. Closing his eyes, he remembers Rainer’s eyes that night, Rhodes’ screams, Argo’s heartbroken sobs from the bed below him, how he didn’t feel any remorse laying on the top bunk. Fitzroy’s numbness had scared him until Chaos assured him that his absence of emotion made him stronger. He almost believed them. Almost.

And so he stands there, at the edge of Gratia Lake, huddled in a blanket. Not for warmth, for a false sense of security. Disgusted with himself, he flings the blanket to the ground and starts taking off his shoes, before stopping and re-lacing his boots. He wouldn’t be remembered as a pauper, shoe-less and alone. _They’ll be better off without you._ He couldn’t tell if the voice in his head was him or Chaos. He wasn't even sure which one he wanted it to be. Taking a deep breath, he looks around for a sign of beauty. Something he can remember in his last moments. His eyes rest on a single yellow carnation, lying abandoned by a tree. It must’ve been from the earlier festivities. Fitz picks it up and sets it on the blanket. _You can stop hurting people now._ Whoever finds it will know what he’s done. Where he’s gone. 

Fitzroy takes one last look at the carnation before staring down into the depths of the lake. The water was dark and deep, foreboding. Surely Chaos would arrive to talk him down. Surely they wouldn’t let him throw away their teachings. Fitzroy let his worst thoughts drift to the front of his mind. _You can rest._ He could stop hurting the people he loved. His dream of becoming a knight, a paragon of justice, was so far away from him now. How could he hurt those he would’ve sworn to save? The shame overwhelms him and he gazes back into the water. It’s inviting, calling to him as a deep weariness sets over his body. The world goes silent around him, the campus asleep, and Fitzroy’s body relaxes a little bit. He knows what he has to do. _All I wanted was to protect people._ His ears beat with the sound of his own heart - he swallows, and then he jumps.

The cold water embraces him on impact and he hugs his arms close to him. His cloak soaks through and he desperately tries to swim before realizing that that wasn’t his plan at all. No, he needed to die to save everyone. Would he be remembered as a hero? Maybe. Maybe not. He stops swimming and lets himself sink. Before his head submerges, he catches a glimpse of the night sky, radiant and beautiful. The water rushes over his head and his oxygen levels start depleting, like a timer to his own death. As he starts floating to the top, he calls down a surge of magical pressure onto his chest, sinking himself faster. _Chaos will not take me._ He’s on the verge of passing out when memories start bursting like flashes of light through his mind.

\-------

And suddenly he's back on his family farm, his mother's hugging him too tightly, and he knows exactly where he is. Fitz sobs, weak and full of pain, as his mom holds him in her arms. He’d just been expelled from knight school after his magic had gotten out of control. The pain is familiar, stinging him as he lies in his old room, making friends with the ceiling fan. The posters of Clyde Nite, brave and bold, hang above his bed. He rips them off the wall until he's crying. Dendra stands in the door frame and he doesn't look at her. He sits in the ruins of his dreams, fingers trembling as he tries to piece them back together. _Uncontrollable._

Fitzroy remembers that night, his mother sitting at his bedside holding his hand, jasmine rising around the two of them. He hugs his mother's waist, resting his head on her shoulder and trying not to cry - for his sake or hers, he couldn't tell. Grief suffocates him as he remembers how he always wanted to be taller than his mother, to protect her from the evils of the world, to be her knight in shining armor when his father was away, and he lets out another helpless sob.

"I love you," his mother murmurs, stroking his hair.

"I love you too," he whispers back.

He desperately tries to take in the last glimpse of his childhood home as it fades - the hardwood floors and scent of lemon cleaner. The little frog statue on his bedside table from his father's caravan. His mother's warm smile paired with her kind eyes and soft hands, rubbing circles on his hand as he falls asleep. The dark purple dream catcher by his window that he'd gotten as a child to keep the nightmares away. _Nightmares._ The smell of his mother’s candles recedes and for an instant, Fitzroy is drowning again, the coldness of the water rushing back over him. He gasps for air, water filling his lungs, and is pulled into another memory.

\-------

After their forest visit. Rainer had invited them to a party on the ground floor, familiars welcome, she'd told him, nodding at Snippers. He had made a noncommittal grunt and ended up actually attending the party. He still wasn't sure why he decided to go. It wasn't like anyone was going to talk to him.

Fitzroy is standing in the center of their dorm common area, surrounded by people, still completely alone. _Unstable._ Everyone whispered about the barbarian that had lost control. _Stay away from Room 380_ , they said, _unless you have a death wish._ They said, they said, they said. Somehow, Rainer kept her faith in him. That’s what he loved about her. She approaches him now, blonde hair in a bun at the back of her head, strands framing her face. But she's wearing a terrible type of smile, the one that Fitzroy hates so much, the one that’s full of pity and worry. The one that marks him as _weak._ The one that makes it seem like he _needs_ people.

But...no. He shakes his head. This was Rainer, bright and lovely Rainer, in her ballet pink gown, smiling at him. After everything he'd done, she was still smiling at him. How could he hate her? Rainer puts a gentle hand on his arm. And then he wasn’t himself. Snippers tip-taps around his boots. Chaos' laughter filled his ears, discordant and raucous, overwhelming his senses. He starts breathing harder and Rainer turns to him.

“Fitzroy, are you okay? You seem a little...distant.”

He slaps her clean across the face, hissing something that he doesn't want to remember, in front of everyone in their dorm. Her skeletons rush to her feet and he turns away, crunching the bone squirrels under his heel. _Unnatural._ Crush tackles him into the floor. Right before his body hits the wood, he passes through the floor and his air liquefies. _Back in the lake._ Squeezing his eyes shut, the moon and stars start fading from above him. He could barely think - how could he with Rainer’s pained eyes burnt into the forefront of his mind?

\-------

His body shudders with the force of the next memory. Fighting with Argo and the Firbolg on the practice battlefield. Eyes crackling with white fire, Chaos taking him over even more than before. Fitzroy leaned into his newfound power with no hesitation.

Fitz stands in the dirt now, the smell of basil (from the gardens) and blood mixing together. The henna on his hands is smudged but comes back when Rhodes lands a hit on him. His hands blaze with mother-of-pearl patterns, and he turns to the ranger. There's a mixture of fear and resolve on her face as Fitzroy turns to her. _Good._ Argo puts a hand on his chest, worry in his sea-green eyes, and Fitz shoves him off. The look of hurt in his eyes fuels his next attack.

He hits Rhodes with a blast of white fire, burning a hole straight through her chest. She stumbles backward and falls hard on the packed dirt as the bodies of her companions thud to the ground. Fitzroy’s chest heaves with the effort, turning to his comrades, who have identical looks of shock on their faces. The Firbolg rushes to Rhodes’ side as she bleeds out onto the training ground earth. Someone's screaming. Argo. He's shaking with adrenaline, lips barely parted, mouth drying up. _It was an accident,_ he almost says. Argo's standing there, navy hair back, face shocked. He _hated_ that look on Argo's face - Fitz reaches out for him desperately, to turn him away or to shove him, he didn't know. His hands swing back to their regular position and he shuffles back around. Rhodes rattles out a breath and he flinches.

A twinge of regret courses through Fitzroy as the adrenaline leaves him. Argo clings to his arm, begging him to _go, get a teacher, get someone, anyone, Fitzroy -_ he closes his eyes and collapses. The teachers came running - Buckminster, Leon, everyone knew about what Fitzroy had done But what did it matter? He’d won. Water bubbles up, overwhelming him. How could he have been a knight? He couldn’t have been...he wasn’t _good._ It was foolish of him to even try. He closes his eyes again and lets himself keep sinking, a horrible sort of malaise setting into his very bones.

\-------

He’s sitting on the top bunk back at school. The Firbolg and Argo had forgiven Fitzroy. He couldn’t understand why - or how - they could. He guessed those were just his friends - forgiving and loving. No matter what. The whispers, the rumors surrounding him, got worse after Rhodes’ funeral. He hadn’t _meant_ to kill her. But why did it matter? She was dead. It was his fault. A wave of fresh guilt rips through him, as painful as the first time. Or, almost as painful.

The teachers debated letting him back in the dorms, or on campus at all. Higglemas had pushed for him to stay, worry crinkling his eyes, but Fitzroy knew it was only a matter of time before he went into a rage and sealed his fate. Actually, he was almost sure that Chaos had whispered into the ears of the officials and convinced them to let him stay. He tried to control his magic, god, he _tried._ Except he was in control when he was hurting people. That’s the only way he knew how to _be_ in control. Chaos talked to him late at night, giving him advice and pointers on how to become more powerful. 

Argo’s frustrated sobs sound from below him. Peering through the slats, Fitz sees the genasi struggling to pull a brush through his dripping hair. Argo’s arm was in a sling, from a previous altercation with Fitzroy. _He shouldn’t have crossed me._ He tries to clear his head. No, this was Argo. This was his friend. Sighing to himself, he swings his legs off the top bunk and lands next to Argo’s bed. Argo thrusts a dagger at Fitzroy, on edge, and Fitz throws it across the room without a second glance. _Is he trying to hurt me?_ No, Argo was on edge around Fitzroy, receding into a quiet sort of meditation whenever he was around to avoid talking to him. He gnaws at his lip until blood comes to the small cuts.

“Hey there, bud. Need some help?” Fitzroy offers. Argo hesitates, then nods, inching a little further away from him. They sit together in the warm twilight before the familiar, cold unease settles in the pit of his stomach. He knows this can’t last forever. Fitz gets to his feet and sets the brush on the table, pulling a blanket over Argo, who flinches at his touch. _He still doesn’t trust me._ Argo's turned back fades as water surges over Fitzroy. His vision goes dark, and then he’s floating upwards. He summons another blast of magic to weigh him down and hears a grunt of annoyance before he passes out.

\-------

Fitzroy sits on the crimson blanket, the yellow carnation next to him, hair wet. He’s shivering uncontrollably as he strips the cloak off, then his shoes, then his socks. His shirt droops around him as he looks around for his savior. Argo skids to a halt next to him, warm tea in hand. They don’t talk as Argo hands him the tea and he takes cautious sips, warmth flooding back into his body, slowly but surely. 

“What were ye thinking? You almost died!” Argo’s tone is angry as he chastises Fitzroy. _Angry._ He'd made Argo, calm and secure Argo, angry. How could he? The genasi's whole body is rigid, face impassive as he stares down at the broken half-elven boy at his feet.

“That was the point,” Fitzroy mumbles under his breath. Argo stops, taking a breath before his anger sputters out. He pulls Fitz into a tight hug. Fitzroy recoils at the touch - his clothes were sopping wet, slimy and sticking to his body.

Fitz sits there, shivering as Argo puts his jacket around his shoulders, sipping the tea. His curls drip water onto his lap as his vision blurs with tears of anger and shame. _Such a failure. Couldn’t even kill yourself. Who’s going to be hurt because of you?_ He couldn’t tell Argo that he was afraid of himself. Argo picks him up, lifting him over his shoulder, and starts walking. Fitzroy puts his arms up and clings to the genasi’s neck, warm in the winter evening. He could at least try to keep Argo close. Inhaling, he smells the sea breeze and the faint scent of lemons, just like the farm. _He smells like home_ , Fitz realizes with a jolt. Fitzroy tucks the yellow carnation behind Argo's ear; the genasi doesn't acknowledge him and Fitz's heart breaks again. He thought they were beyond all that. That maybe...just maybe, Argo would be able to forgive him.

Argo carries him further from the lake, setting him down with a huff. Pulling another blanket around the two of them, Fitz adjusts his glasses and peers up at Argo, who is staring out over the lake, brows furrowed. He didn’t like it when Argo had this look on his face. It meant he was angry, he was frustrated with something. Another time, what seems like another world away, another Fitzroy would’ve kissed him and held him tight, promised to keep him safe no matter what. They would've been in love. But he wasn't that Fitzroy. His mouth opens, unsure of what to say, and he closes it again. Nothing he could say would rebuild the relationship he'd destroyed with Argo. One sentence couldn't fix everything that had happened. _I love you,_ he thinks. _I love you, I love you, I love you._ Argo is beside him, looking out over the lake, a stranger with too much history for him to ever really be a stranger. Fitzroy sits there, eyes lidded, still trembling under the cold gaze of the winter sky.

And they remember how to be quiet.


End file.
